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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



PRIMROSES 



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SARAH S. WOLVERTON 





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BUFFALO 

CHARLES WELLS MOULTON 

1895 



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Copyright, 1895, 
By SARAH S. WOLVERTON. 



Printed by 

CHARLES WELLS MOULTON 

Buffalo, N. Y. 



TO MY DA UGHTER 

AND TO THOSE 

FRIENDS WHOSE TOKENS OF AFFECTION, 

AND WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT, 

HA VE HELPED ME TO BIND MY 

"PRIMROSES," 

I DEDICATE THIS SIMPLE HEART-OFFERING 
IN GRATITUDE. 



CONTENTS. 



I'll Mark My Place With Flowers 

Stir the Fire 

The House of God 

To My Opposite 

My Souvenir 

A Christmas Gift . 

It Makes No Difference Now 

Inspiration .... 

Longing .... 

Pearls .... 

A Mother's First Kiss . 

November Sweeter than June . 

Thou Hast Called Me . 

An Art Amateur 

Love Stronger than Death . 

That Old Straw Hat 

Dr. Richard Inglis 

Trust ..... 

One of Many 

Beautiful Islands . 

Sing On, O Bird . 

To Give Is to Live . 

Rondeau .... 

Alone ..... 

Triolet .... 

Disappointment 

A Plea for Home 

On the Birth of My First Grandson 

The Ocean Monument . 

The Harp and the Winds . 

A Query 

Gleams of Sunshine 

Retrospect 

A Reminiscence of Childhood , 

Thanksgiving 

The Awakening 

Sweet Rest 



VI 



Contents. 



Rondeau 

A Rift .... 

Sincerity 

Where Hast Thou Gleaned To- 

Triolet 

To Josie .... 

A Tribute 

In the Heart's Temple 

Baby Boy 

Owls Kill Humming-birds 

Don't Look at the Cobwebs 

Only A Word 

More Light . 

Battle Hymn 

Where Do the Pins Go 

Fulfillment 

The Angel's Visit . 

Lend A Hand 

Triolet 

Anchored . 

Two Little Hands . 

Have Faith 

Be True to Me 

My Beautiful Star 

The Tramp Transformed . 

A Lesson from A Clothes-line 

Shadow Watching . 

Mindful of Little Things 

Two Ships 

At Rest 

The Poet 

Tissue Transcript 

Sonnet 

Grant 

Witch Hazel . 

An Invocation . 

Bessie . 

Rondeau . 

Father, Guard My Boy 

My Flower Boat 

Miriam . 



PRIMROSES. 

I gathered some at morni?ig hour 

Their petals wet zvith dew: 
And some were found at high noontide 

Dotting the woodlands through. 

The sweetest when the sun rays touched 

With red the western sky: 
I bind them now as twilight falls 

Primroses! who will buy f 



I'LL MARK MY PLACE WITH FLOWERS. 

TO H. A. C. 

I SAT one morning with a book 
Abstracted, and alone, 
And thoughts suggesting other scenes 

Across my mind were thrown. 
I looked around to find a mark 

With which to keep my place, 
But looked in vain, until I saw 
A well-filled flower vase. 

I rose and plucked a petal fair, 

'Twas fit for Flora's bower, 
And said, ' ' there is no better way 

I'll mark it with a flower." 
And then I thought, "just so through life 

While time my hand empowers, 
Between the pages of each day 

I'll mark my place with flowers." 



io Primroses. 



STIR THE FIRE. 

WHEN the blues are all about you, 
Trials hard your spirit tire, 
Take the tongs, and for amusement 

Just sit down and stir the fire. 
First you make a careless motion, 

Then more mindful will you grow 
Gleaning whole estates of sunshine 
From the firelight's fitful glow. 

And you watch the flames go upward, 

Each intent to do its best, 
Filling space that is assigned it 

Quite unmindful of the rest. 
You will feel your heart grow lighter, 

Better thoughts will gather near, 
And within that glowing splendor, 

Life more worthy will appear. 

Often when the blues o'ercome us 

'Tis the weakening ague chill; 
And 'tis useless then to argue 

" Rise above," " exert your will," 
Just sit down and stir the fire, 

Feel its warmth through every vein 
Then sad thoughts and gloomy fancies 

Won't have half their power to pain. 



The House of God, n 



THE HOUSE OF GOD. 

"THE PURE IN HEART SHALL SEE GOD." 

O FATHER! make my mind Thy habitation; 
y To me Thy presence oft reveal; 
With love my spirit seal. 
Purge from my heart each sinful vain formation 
That it a temple purified may be, 
Fit place to worship Thee. 

When through the flowery fields temptation's calling 

May I Thy silent whisperings hear, 

O, then to me draw near. 
When gloomy shadows round my life are falling 

May I walk firmly Thine appointed way 

Thy smile my guiding ray. 

Aye, though it lead where every light receding, 

Doth waken doubt and cause the cheek to pale 

As frightful fears assail, 
Through sorrow's night, where hearts with grief are 
bleeding 

Beneath affliction's chastening rod, 

E'en there may I see God. 



1 2 Primroses. 



TO MY OPPOSITE. 

ODO not try ! You can not walk, 
. These untold ways with me; 
Too oft the trials of the way 

Your partial eyes would see. 
I'd skip the rocks to glean the moss, 

And make a pillow sweet; 
But you the rough sharp, edge would note, 
And bathe your aching feet. 

I'd watch the gleam in yonder sky 

The sun just breaking through; 
The gathering clouds foreboding wrath 

Would deeply trouble you. 
I'd quaff the wine from out the cup, 

And deem its color fair; 
You'd drain the dregs to analyze, 

And find deception there. 

Then do not try, but let me go, 

I walk not all alone; 
A hand is ever holding mine, 

I hear a whispered tone, 
A radiant light is leading me 

Unseen by mortal eyes, 
But O, so bright, it makes this earth 

For me a Paradise. 



My Souvenir. 13 



MY SOUVENIR. 

AH yes, 'tis priceless in its worth, a thing 
That like the wand magicians hold for me — 
Turns night to day, and by its light I see 
The way to walk whatever fate may bring, 
And with that happy thought I sit and sing 
Such songs as thrill my soul with ecstasy 
While through my heart sweet memories wander 
free, 
And in my lap their garnered treasures fling. 

Did e' er the artist while his fingers wrought, 
Tracing the lines with patient loving care 
Suspect another greater yet than he 

Would leave inscriptions deftly graven there 
That through the years would precious tribute be 
Of love to Love's own sacred altar brought? 



14 Primroses. 



A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 

THOUGH hands and feet must quiet be 
The heart its impulse weaves, 
And says: than naught 'twere belter far 
To give a wreath of leaves. 

Then take this book, and as thine eye 

Shall scan each lettered page: 
Bid reason bide awhile away, 

And fancy bright engage. 

With magic wand she'll change each word, 

Till all shall seem to be, 
The sweetest token love could find 

And sent from me to thee. 



It Makes No Difference Now. 15 



IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE NOW. 

DID' ST ever low before a shrine, 
In sorrow's garments bow, 
And ask that one sweet flower be given 
To gild the ways of now ? 

That gift witheld, did'st go away 

And press the flinty stone 
And while the flowers bloomed everywhere 

Did'st weep that thou had'st none? 

And sitting there hast had a friend 

Come softly stealing near, 
To say with pleasant words and smile 

' ' Dry up the falling tear. ' ' 

Then all too late that other hand 
Reached forth the flower, but thou 

Could' st only breathe in anguished tone, 
" It makes no difference now." 



1 6 Primroses. 



INSPIRATION. 



PUT away thy rule and line, 
Give free run to thought divine, 
Take no plummet, only seek 
Words of tender love to speak ! 
Some lone heart may catch their ringing 
Blessing thee while thou art singing. 

Fearest thou such utterance may 

Cheer no pilgrim on his way ? 
That thy singing may be vain 
To assuage an hour of pain ? 

Trust the voice so strong appealing 

Trust thy soul its light revealing. 

Hark! the wild bird trills its song 
While the blue he skims along. 

See, the trees with changing leaves 
How their song oft interweaves. 
Loving work are flowers doing 
O'er the earth their beauty strewing. 

Learn from these O poet learn 
When within the fire shall burn 



Inspiration. 1 7 

Thoughts then rise thou must express 
Thou knowest not what heart to bless. 

Learn from Him whose hand is guiding 

What shall fail, what be abiding. 



1 8 Primroses. 



LONGING. 



THE winter winds are chilly, dear, 
While all around is hushed and still 
I wish that I a step could hear 
To stir my pulses' deeper thrill; 
I would that I could summon thee 
With magic of the will. 

The falling snow is drifting past, 
Its chilly flakes my sight oppress 

Although I fear not winter's blast 
There comes a sense of loneliness; 
I would that I could welcome thee 
My longing heart to bless. 

Can' st thou not hear the echoes ring 
Through all the live-long day from far ? 

Nor see at eve first glimmering 
One lonely, loving little star ? 
For one alone it shineth there 
Across the sunset bar. 

Listen! as eve's calm shadows fall 
In myriad shapes that softly glide, 



Longing. 19 



A silvery voice will sweetly call, 
" 'Tis trysting-time at eventide! ' 
Look up! the stars are shining bright 
But one shames all beside. 



2o Primroses. 



PEARLS. 



WHEN wild the winds are raging 
The billows loudly roar, 
Then lowly bend and seek thee 

For pearls along the shore, 
Think not the sand and rubbish 

Are only barren ground, 
For often in such places 
The purest gold is found. 

And when the waves run highest, 

And wash the rocky strand 
'Tis then the troubled ocean 

Casts treasures on the sands. 
'Tis then those fearless spirits 

Who brave the stormy night, 
And walk within the tempest 

Find gold and jewels bright. 

And so when God is holding 

His chastening rod above, 
'Tis they who bend in meekness, 

Who win His precious love. 
'Tis they who walk with patience 

Along life's troubled strand, 
Who meet the holy angels, 

And clasp the Master's hand. 



A Mother's First Kiss. 21 



A MOTHER'S FIRST KISS. 

SEEKER of beauty, arouse thee! away! 
Bring me rich gifts for my love I pray, 
High up as the azure, deep as the sea, 
Search for their treasures, bring them to me. 

I scaled the vast mountain, traversed the mine 
To bring thee rare gifts in a crown to shine. 
Up through the cloudrift, cleaving the blue, 
Diamonds I cut from the crystallized dew, 

From silvery threads of the moon's soft hair 
Wove I a robe for a bride to wear; 
I fathomed the ocean, found 'neath its wave 
These corals adrift from a mermaid's cave. 

I found on the waves of the wind afloat, 
The merriest song from a wild-bird's throat, 
And flowers bathed in a sunbeam's kiss 
I gathered to grace thy bower of bliss. 

The treasure most valued I could not obtain; 
I bartered, I bargained, and pleaded in vain. 
On affection's warm breath the treasure had shone, 
But e'er I could grasp it the tribute was gone. 



22 Primroses. 

But memory holds, forever will hold, 

The glimpse of that jewel more precious than gold, 

Wait you for my answer ? It only is this 

On the lips of a babe, a mother's first kiss. 



November Sweeter than June. 23 



NOVEMBER SWEETER THAN JUNE. 

LIFE is not always sweetest when the dew 
Beads on each leaf and tree and fragrant flower, 
Sometimes there breaks a glad autumnal hour 
That sweeter is than summer ever knew. 
In life's young day we fancy all things true, 
Imprisoned in her flowery, fettered bower 
Imagination then wields wondrous power, 
And through her lens we every object view. 

But in November days, upon the field, 

Where once we plucked the roses fair of June, 

The richest fruits ungathered oft remain 
And with their splendor all the ground is strewn. 
'Tis so with life, the most abundant yield 

We find unlooked for on its western plain. 



24 Primroses, 



THOU HAST CALLED ME. 

THOU hast called me thine angel 
When sorrow was nigh, 
No cloud rift to lighten, 

No star in the sky. 
Thy feet were aweary 

Thy heart beating slow 
But swift through the tangles, 
Thy footsteps must go. 

I came as a flash comes, 

I spread the white wing 
Through the mist and the darkness, 

Glad tidings to bring. 
To fold the loved wanderer, 

Close, close to my breast, 
To soothe the worn spirit 

There sweetly to rest. 

And still as we journey, 

The blue hills below, 
To cheer and to comfort, 

The white wings will go: 
Their sheen may be hidden 

No sign shalt thou see. 
But surely beside thee, 

Thine angel will be. 



An Art Amateur. 2$ 



AN ART AMATEUR. 

MRS. BOBBY TALKS ABOUT "PAINTINV 

BEHOLD how great a gift it is 
A gem like this to paint! 
Some people have the genius in 
And some there be that ain't. 
I never guessed I had it in 

Till Betty brought it 'eout 
And now there ain't a airthly thing 
I care so much abeout. 

At first I used to nuss a bit 

To go of errants too: 
But somehow that wa'rnt quite enough 

For willin' hands to do. 
At first I took to paintin' fruit: 

Pears, peaches, and the like, 
But neow to grander spheres I soar 

For higher Art I strike! 

To landscapes now my soul aspires, 
I'm bound to put her through, 

To paint trees, rocks, and rivulets 
Some skies and mountains too. 



26 Primroses. 

I'll climb atop the hill of fame 
I'll fling my brush in air: 

I'll plant my easel in the clouds 
And paint a picture there! 



Love Stronger than Death. 27 



LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH. 

1 THINK if I were dying and you came 
And took my trembling hand 
And waited by me on that dreary brink, 
They call the Border Land : 

And said in your kind gentle voice, ' ' cross not 

That rapid river, dear, 
' Twould darker grow if you were gone, we need 

Your presence daily here." 

I think I'd know the hand, and, that new strength 

Through every vein would thrill : 
While from the soundings of my heart would wake 

To life the sleeping will. 

I think my soul would stay its flight nor care, 

Although I'd wandered far, 
Though gleamed the City just before, and wide 

The golden gates ajar. 

Nor question aught of good or ill, I'd know 

Joy in ourselves is found : 
That if our presence lendeth light, then will 

Heaven lie all around. 



28 Primroses. 



THAT OLD STRAW HAT. 

SEE ! here is the house, 'tis old and gray 
That is the cottage over the way. 

He lived in the cottage, then ' twas white, 
I in the house, ' ' old Pease ' ' color quite. 

1 ' Old Pease ' ' was a Quaker, stiff and staid, 
And all alike were his houses made, 

And just the same were they painted too, 
His coat and hat they matched in hue. 

The roofs were red, and like a star 
Each beamed upon you, near or far. 

Well many a time e'er the morning sun 
To waken the neighbors had begun, 

I'd listen a well-known whistle to hear 
Drawing my window softly near. 

Then down the stairs and out of the door 
I would skip the green grass gaily o'er, 

To catch the gleam of a bright brown eye 
As he tossed his straw hat up to the sky. 



That Old Straw Hat. 29 

Then, where the meadow pathways wind, 
The daisies we in chains would bind. 

Buttercups in their hearts of gold 

And, "all for you " his brown eyes told, 

And berries ripe — there are none to-day 
As sweet as those on that highway. 

And roses fair, though they'ro fragrant all, 
Grow fairest yet by that old stone wall. 

And then at eve as the sun went down, 
His path to the gate my whistler found ; 

Again to the meadow would we roam 
To drive the cows in safety home ; 

Then sit on the stile and stories tell 
Till over the hill long shadows fell. 

Nor little dreamed — either he or I 

How soon we would say our last good-bye. 

I went to the city. On sped the years, 
Bringing their weight of joys and fears. 

A woman's wish and a woman's pride, 
Children now were my steps beside ; 



30 Primroses. 

I saw him once again — Ah me, 

I naught of his boyish look could see ; 

A stalwart man with a bearded face, 
Of his youthful self no lingering trace. 

A stranger now, by the gateway he 
No longer whistles and waits for me. 

But memory hangs in her silent hall 
Beautiful things at the spirit's call ; 

Landscapes, whose colors deftly laid 
By unseen artists, can never fade. 

And one, O fondly I gaze thereat, 
The face of a boy in an old straw hat. 



Dr. Richard highs. 31 



DR. RICHARD INGLIS. 

DIED 1875, AT DETROIT. 

" For he came not to be ministered unto, 
but to minister." 

AND so through the paths his Master trod, 
Where the sick and suffering lay, 
Himself forgot in his glorious work, 

He journeyed on his way. 
His calm, clear eye in the distance saw 
Where the noblest heights upreared 
And his daily life of doing good 
Like a hallowed round appeared. 

O, not for gold was his service wrought, 

The poor man's grasp was as dear : 
The feeblest wail from an infant's lip 

Fell sad on his listening ear. 
The moan of pain from an humble cot 

To him was summons as great 
As that which called to the princely home, 

By luxury's couch to wait. 

Aye, just as warm was the clasp of his hand, 
His smile would as sweetly break, 



32 Primroses. 

His voice was as soft and tender toned, 
While comforting words he spake ; 

The stranger he met beside the well, 
With a life-load hard to bear, 

Would look in his face and find a friend 
And comforter written there. 

While the young untried, just entering paths 

Where way marks are often dim, 
Found ever a guide to counsel, direct, 

Through every trouble in him. 
He has gone from our sight, his life-work is done, 

But others are going his way. 
The record he leaves, O, let them take up 

And practice his precepts each day. 



Trust. 33 



TRUST. 

FALLING, yet falling o'er my life 
Are shadows dark — but still 
I whisper, " there is One above 
Who watcheth o'er his child with love, 
All things obey His will. 

He will listen if I call him, 

And send an angel down 
To guide me as the night comes on — 
To lead me when the lights are gone, 

' ■ Through ways I have not known. ' ' 

He will not give a heavier load 

Than I have strength to bear : 
And if I climb the mountain steep 
His eye a kindly watch will keep 
Where thorns and rocks appear. 

In Him I trust, on Him I lean 

Through all life' s devious ways, 
The past, the present, future — all 
Are His : and when the shadows fall, 
His are the cheering rays. 



34 Primroses. 

His angels trim a golden lamp 

Above the cloudy sky, 
There brighter far than sunny beams 
Upon life's darkest hour it gleams 

Before faith's trusting eye. 



One of Many. 35 



ONE OF MANY. 

AH no, to thee I would not be but one 
Of host innumerable ! I would be 
The one best loved, and I would have thee see 
Each day my face as sees the morn the sun 
Were pathways rough and drear for thee begun, 
As to the light, thine eyes should turn to me, 
That I might cheer or comfort give to thee 
Until the care and weariness were done. 

My heart should be thy resting-place, and I 
Would find my joy in knowing that howe'er 

This life might measure out of good or ill 

Through every mete none other came so near : 

No other hand thy cup so full could fill 

And change to sweet, even Marah' s waters drear. 



36 Primroses. 



BEAUTIFUL ISLANDS. 

THERE are beautiful isles in life'e ocean 
With the choicest of flowers o' erlaid ; 
We will find them where deepest affliction 

A path for the traveler has made. 
By the ploughshare of sorrow the furrows 

Are turned on the smooth waiting sod, 
While the seeds of the blossoms unfolding, 
Are sown by the wisdom of God. 

Dear feet seek those beautiful islands, 

Dear hands of their treasures oft glean, 
While the hearts that are tender bend o'er them, 

And love adds delight to the scene ; 
From the ships that glide by on ocean 

The sailors keep watch for their light, 
They suffer no danger from shipwreck, 

With those beautiful islands in sight. 

The aged ones tottering onward 

Clasp closely the hands that are there — 
The mourner is constantly seeking 

Assistance his burden to bear. 
Though the sunshine may sometimes be shrouded, 

Yet softly the shadowings fall, 
For over those beautiful islands 

Reigns God, the Commander of all. 



Sing on, O Bird. 37 



SING ON, O BIRD. 

SING on, O bird, thy mate to cheer, 
Thy sweet love-notes she waits to hear : 
However high may be her flight 
With wings a-droop she will alight, 
Straining a loving, listening ear 
To catch the song to her most dear. 

Though heavy hang the clouds and drear, 
Or breaks the golden morning light, 
Sing on, O bird ! 

For one sing on ! Sing loud and clear 
Through all the day till stars appear. 
Let no cold winds thy voice affright 
From tallest tree- top's dizzy height, 
' Mid foliage green or leaflets sere, 
Sing on, O bird ! 



38 Primroses. 



TO GIVE IS TO LIVE. 

RESTING one time on my journey- 
Close to a circling wall, 
Saw I in fancy at twilight 
A pine, shapely and tall. 

The foliage of autumn enclothed it, 
Covering its branches wide; 

Only that one in the meadow, 
With waving, low grasses beside. 

And ever it seemed to be sighing, 

Making inaudible moan; 
Something within it kept saying: 

' ' Forever, forever alone ! ' ' 

Down at its base in seclusion 
Nestled a lone little vine, — 

Looked up at the glory above it, — 
Cared for the heart of the pine, — 

Looked down at its tendrils trailing, 

Broken by showers, — 
Thought of the fibers frail, forming, 

Folding the flowers. — 



To Give is to Live. 39 

Smiled to itself in its pleasure, — 

Crept close to the pine; 
One after another, its tendrils 

Began to entwine. 

Up through its outermost branches 

The pine to its crest 
Stood freighted with blossoming beauty, 

Down into its breast. 

No more, though falling the twilight, 

No more, as a call for relief, 
Heard I that innermost mourning, 

That echoing accent of grief. 

Strength for support in its clinging 

Perfected the vine; 
The tendrils so tenderly twining 

Gave joy to the pine. 



40 Primroses. 



RONDEAU. 

LOVE fell asleep long years ago: 
I let him sleep: I did not know 
How I should care his smile to see 
Beam bright one day on me. 
How could I tell it would be so ? 
Beside the road where briars grow 
And bitter, biting, north-winds blow 
And darkness gathers dismally 
Love fell asleep. 

But ah! one day — oh Time be slow! 

Haste not Life's triumphs — soon they go, 
Love woke ! He clapped his hands in glee 
Cried out as one from prison free: 

11 1 did not die! " — his cheeks aglow, 
1 ' Love fell asleep. ' ' 



Aloiie. 41 



ALONE. 

Ci ALONE! " oh no, I'm not alone 
i\ A gentle spirit walks with me 

And though the shadows gather dark 
Its loving smile I still can see. 

It wreathes my brow with memories fond 
When racking pain waits me beside 

And through all griefs to heights unknown 
Leads me that tender spirit guide. 

And when my footsteps falter oft, 
As faint, I scan the darkness wild 

It whispers to me, ' ' fear not thou 
God watches ever o'er his child." 

And oh, the visions it will bring 
For me, to show the perfect bliss 

Awaiting in the world above 

When I released shall rise from this. 

I see the pleasant pastures there, 

I hear the flowing crystal tide 
Where safe from all I've suffered here 

I rest among the purified. 



42 Primroses. 



TRIOLET. 



IF I could tune my lyre, dear, 
To notes the gracious angels sing 
No saddened strains should greet your ear 
If I could tune my lyre, dear, 
Each note should wake so sweet and clear, 

The music peace to you would bring, 
If I could tune my lyre, dear, 
To notes the gracious angels sing. 



Disappointment. 43 



DISAPPOINTMENT. 

I'VE watched the morning o'er the hills, 
Bright evening turned to gray ; 
And come and go the happy time 
Of Merry Christmas day. 

And yet the friend I fondly hoped 

Upon that day to greet, 
Gave not the tender hand to clasp, 

The Christmas welcome sweet. 

Ah me ! Life seems a sea of gloom, 

The crossing ways are dark 
And out beyond the beacon lines, 

Alone my little bark. 

Alone ? above are steady gleams 

To light the gloomy sea, 
And there are spirit-friends I know 

To guide my course for me. 

They loved me once — nor can it be 
They'll let me come to harm, 

But lead where disappointment ne'er 
Can give my soul alarm. 



44 Primroses. 



A PLEA FOR HOME. 

"We may build more splendid habitations 

But we can not buy with gold the old associations. ' 



M 



Y home, oh do not take it, 
Tis all the world to me ! 
Tis full of hallowed memories, 
My loving eyes can see 



Each cherished chair and table, 
Each book and tinted view, 

The brackets and the vases 
Bear written records true. 

Each has a clear inscription, 
The name I treasured so, 

Of some dear one who loved me 
In days of long ago. 

The carpets trod by strangers 
Are not mere woven thread ; 

They bear the print of footsteps, 
Long silent with the dead. 

The walls resound with voices 
That still to me are dear, 

When through the twilight silence 
Their loving tones I hear. 



A Plea for Home. 45 

Then memory brings the faces 

On which I love to gaze, 
To learn the worth of living 

In Life's deserted ways. 

Oh ask me not to leave it, 

'Twould break my clinging heart 

To tear its loving tendrils 
From that dear home apart. 



46 Primroses. 



ON THE BIRTH OF MY FIRST GRANDSON. 

FAR, far away over the mountain 
In a snug little valley below, 
Where a creek through the canyon is winding 

And lightly comes falling the snow, 
Is a ranch. There are father and mother, 

A daughter as fair as a rose, 
That a brightness like sunshine all over 
The home of the wanderer throws. 

But with all, there was ever a longing, 

A yearning and coveting there 
For a son to come into the household 

And a place in its heritage share. 
Till one morning just after Thanksgiving 

The signal was given to rise, 
For the angel of Life was approaching 

And bore in his bosom a prize. 

Soon a dear little mortal was cuddled 

Close down in its foldings of white, 
And a baby boy opened his eyelids 

To gaze on this wonderful light. 
Then a messenger swift as the lightning 

Sped over mountain and sea — 
Abroad on the wings of the morning, 

And brought the glad tidings to me. 



The Ocean Monument. 47 



THE OCEAN MONUMENT. 



o 



BRIGHT the ocean monument, 
The star-reflected light, 
Above the lonely sleepers through 
The long, long, stretch of night. 
The wind in wild sweet melody 

An anthem loves to play, 
Reminding of the sleepers there 
Through all the lonely day. 

O, Ocean's dead shall never be 

Forgotten or unknown, 
Because no names are registered, 

Upon the sculptured stone. 
Because no weeping willow waves, 

Its branches, green and fair, 
The starlight and the wild-wind harp, 

Keep constant vigil there. 



48 Primroses. 



THE HARP AND THE WINDS. 

5 HPWAS a beautiful harp, but no right hand 

1 Had over its life-chords swept; 
And through the years closing it in, 
In the hall it quietly slept. 

But the south wind came, his touch was warm ; 

His wand o' er the wires he flung, 
When the strains burst forth, as an anthem sweet 

To the voice of the Master sung. 

Then it trembled, thrilled through every chord 

With new life waking within, 
As you've seen a bush when a flock of birds, 

Just alight 'mong its boughs has been. 

But the north wind rose in his region of snow, 
Bore down o'er the hills in his pride ; 

When the soft south wind sank down, and low 
In the cold and the snow sheets, died. 

You must know how the great dark settles in ? 

Sometimes not a sign nor a token, 
How the stars go out, how the moon is not ? 

It is so when some ties are broken. 



A Query, 49 



A QUERY. 

DID it possess a deathless soul, 
That little one of mine ? 
Who just passed through the door of life, 

Was gone at day's decline. 
Its close-shut eyes had opened not 

Its hands so pale and cold, 
Gave back no pressure when I warmed 
Them in my bosom's fold. 

Its little feet like pearls were hid 

Beneath its robings white. 
Ne'er were disclosed those baby steps 

To glad its mother's sight. 
So small, so frail, and yet my heart, 

Felt sorrow's rushing tide 
When kind hands brought the babe to me, 

And laid it by my side. 

And great the love bestowed on me 

When in a lonely hour: 
I heard the whispered promise made 

To give a precious flower; 
And so by that I know it lives, 

And waits for me above 
And reaches down its baby-hands, 

To plead for mother's love. 



50 Primroses. 



GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE. 

YES, there are glimpses of sunshine, 
No matter how heavy the cloud, 
Stars in the firmament shining 

The brighter that shadows enshroud. 
There are words that are silently spoken, 

Whose echo rings loudly and clear 
When high over tones of contention, 
Their comforting music we hear. 

There are smiles like the blossoms of summer 

Erasing the up-springing frown, 
The sweetest when trials are frequent, 

The brightest when fortunes are down. 
Caresses we always remember, 

That soothed us so softly to rest, 
The peace of a beautiful nature, 

That gave us its truest and best. 

The clasp of a hand strong and tender, 

That always imparted delight: 
We knew that though hidden the pathway, 

It ever would lead us aright. 
Good gold that we never will barter, 

Great treasure we never will lend, 
The jewels and gold of that sunshine, 

Where love and adversity blend. 



Retrospect 51 



RETROSPECT. 

I'M looking fondly backward 
And living o'er again 
Some cherished scenes that memory, 

Has pictured on my brain. 
I'm thinking of a morning 

Not many months ago, 
When some few words were spoken 
In tender tones and low. 

When danger had been threatening, 

And I was crushed with dread, 
You placed your arm around me, 

These very words you said: 
11 Come, tell me all about it! " 

I hardly then could speak, 
The fright from which I trembled, 

Had made each accent weak. 

My soul grew brave and stronger, 

For something in your tone 
Conveyed the sweet impression, 

I suffered not alone. 
The years may come and bring me 

Words spoken kind and true, 
But none will seem more precious 

Than those I heard from you. 



52 Primroses. 



A REMINISCENCE OF CHILDHOOD. 

IN looking o'er the landscape 
As scenes pass to and fro, 
Comes floating in the window 

A leaf from long ago. 
I see the dear old homestead 

The childish faces there, 
And grandma sitting smiling 
In her old easy-chair. 

I see the flower-garden 

Where bloomed the lilacs sweet, 
Along the walks impressions 

Of many children's feet: 
I see the mimic garden 

Beside the rocky wall, 
One lady-in-the-bower 

And one blue larkspur tall. 

While all around the border, 
There stands a fence of pine 

By childish hands constructed, 
And given me for mine, 

A cistern by the platform 

Where burdock leaves abound 



A Reminiscence of Childhood. 53 

And where my precious dollies, 
The ragged ones — were drowned. 

Ah me! how fell the tear-drops 

Down childhood's tender cheek, 
My grief was then as bitter 

As woman's tongue can speak. 
When home from school returning 

That cistern met my eye, 
My dollies in it hanging, 

Their feet turned toward the sky. 



54 Primroses. 



THANKSGIVING. 

THE quiet guests assemble, 
The guests from far away- 
Come with their silent greeting 
On this Thanksgiving Day. 
Down through the realms of memory 

They come on every side, 
Within my heart's great recess, 
A little while abide. 

One from her Southern homestead, 

In accents soft and low; 
Says, ' ' Dost remember dearie, 

Thangiving long ago ? 
While friends were gathered round me, 

That honored day to keep, 
Without a word of warning, 

I laid me down to sleep ! ' ' 

Another loved more dearly, 
Clasps close my willing hand 

And — these the words that whisper 
From out the Silent Land. 

' ' Thanksgiving dost remember 
It seems so long ago 



Thanksgiving. 55 



The day was like to this one 
As softly fell the snow ? 

1 ' You could not tell the meaning 

Of gloom that round you stole 
Or why the shadows sombre 

Enshrouded all your soul. 
But few the weeks had numbered, 

When you 'mid sorrow's swell, 
Remembered that great darkness 

And knew its import well." 

And o' er the snow-clad mountain 

Fond memory brings her own, 
While loving arms and tender, 

Are fondly round them thrown; 
And so though uninvited, 

The guests who grace our board, 
The loved ones who are vanished, 

Are to our hearts restored. 



56 Primroses. 



THE AWAKENING. 

HER harp stood silent in the hall. None, none 
To see, to test the fitness of its string, 
To guess the power it held within. Or ring 
From out its depths the melodies sweet: not one. 
But ere the spring had caught the summer sun, 
One came. He saw, he bade her bravely fling 
Her hand across the chords and to them bring 
The timid music o'er the bars to run. 

'Tis autumn now: those wakened chords no more 
Are mute: beneath the touch of love's soft hand 

Enrapturing all with song, her senses thrill, 
I wonder if within a distant land, 

Those notes transplanted can one bosom fill, 

Can charm where she the harpist must adore! 



Sweet Rest. 57 



SWEET REST. 

AT last has come to thee that precious boon 
Long sought, sweet ' ' Rest. ' ' 
I wonder as I read those lines, what cross 
On thee was pressed, 

That thou should'st long to have life's journey o'er 

And be at rest. 
I know some ways are rough: that paths divide: 

Where we think best, 

Our father bids us not go on. Oft too, 

Where flowers grow 
We ask with pleading tears awhile to walk, 

He says, not so. 

I know we strive our burdens hard to bear, 

Strive to be brave! 
To walk with loyal hearts, the weary path 

On to the grave. 

I know that human strength is weak — that none 

Of human kind 
Can take the burden we are called to bear 

By Him all-kind. 



58 Primroses. 

We'd weary of the road, but He who notes 

The sparrow's fall 
Will lead through tangled wood or dark morass 

Past dangers all. 

I too have cried for ' ' Rest, ' ' and still I cry 

For I am weak; 
And may not gain however hard I try 

The goal I seek. 

Yet glean I in the roughened paths I tread 

Some flowers fair; 
And try to catch the birdlings song, that greets 

Me everywhere. 

And so I win my joys through life, and try 

To be content, 
Believing this: or cloud or sun, each was, 

In wisdom sent. 

And when the day is o'er, and sinks the sun 

Low in the west, 
I hope to hear above the dark, " Come thou, 

And sweetly Rest. ' ' 



Rondeau. 59 



RONDEAU. 



WALKING the fields one summer's day 
We gathered flowers the seeds to strew 
We pulled the blooms but kept a few 
Strolling along our pleasant way. 
The sun flung down his golden ray 

And we were wrapped in light, we two, 
Walking the fields. 

We walk again where sunbeams play 

The same old paths with pleasure through: 
New flowers are where the old ones grew, 

We pluck them fresh in glad to-day 
Walking the fields. 



6o Primroses. 



A RIFT. 



THE gloom had gathered close around 
Each ray of light obscured, 
Submission only meant to be, 
I patiently endured. 

When lo! the gloom began to part 

The cloud to break into; 
A silver shinning prophesied 

A sunbeam skipping through. 

A cheerful voice invoked the same, 
As tripping feet came near — 

While smiles within a darkened room 
Made brighter all appear. 

God bless the careful comforters, 

The helpers o'er life's way: 
And as they measure may life mete 

Where'er their feet may stray. 

The others ? Ah ! they have their own, 

Our pity they should share; 
They miss one half life's blessedness 

The other can not spare. 



Sincerity. 61 



SINCERITY. 

JUST the words as nature gave them, 
Full or scanty, be my praise : 
As the woodland birds are singing, 

I must trill my simple lays ; 
From within, and not from seeking, 

Out among the trodden lanes, 
Often comes the choicest offerings, 
Purest thoughts the mind obtains. 

Each and all, we have our mission ; 

Some to strike the lowly lyre, 
Some to stand on Mount Parnassus 

To invoke the fitful fire. 
Crave I not that height oft lonely, 

Where the chilling blasts abound ; 
In the warmer sheltered valleys 

Would I rather far be found. 

Where the heart with heart is speaking, 

Where the friendly hand is warm, 
Where we comfort one another, 

Should the shadow bode a storm ; 
There in nature's sweet communion, 

Fond of heart, and pure of soul, 
I would find my noblest mission, 

While the years their records roll. 



62 Primroses. 



WHERE HAST THOU GLEANED TO-DAY? 

THE sun sinks low in the purple west, 
The birds to their nests hrve flown, 
The flowers fortell the coming of night, 
Now, where hast thou gleaned, mine own? 

Were those fields all of ripened grain, 
Didst bind up thy sheaves with care, 

Were sorrow and pain, subdued and stilled, 
Did kindness reign ever there? 

Didst buoy with hope the tempest-tossed one, 

And point to the beacon-light, 
When rough the billows, and some poor soul 

Was caught in the chill of night ? 

Didst lend thine ear to the shivering cry, 
Didst give to the famishing, food, 

And feel at heart ; for earth's poor ones 
Thou hadst done what thou could ? 

Thy grain is good, then, and God's own hand 

Shall garner it all for thee, 
For separate on the great threshing-floor, 

The grain and the chaff will be. 



Triolet 63 



TRIOLET. 



CATCH ever the sunbeams, my dear, 
The sunbeams, though ever so small. 
It matters not where they appear, 
Catch ever the sunbeams, my dear, 
Quite often a shower hangs near ; 

Then, ere the rough rain-drops shall fall, 
Catch ever the sunbeams, my dear ! 



64 Primroses. 



TO JOSIE. 

ON HER MARRIAGE DAY. 

GOOD-BYE, my precious darling. 
From out the port of home, 
Upon an untried ocean, 
Thy little bark must roam. 

The stranger's hand must guide thee 

To fairer, sunnier clime : 
His heart thy helm and compass 

Through all the future time. 

Oh, may his hand be tender, 
Whate'er life's promise bring. 

Oh ! may his love prove faithful, 
But brightness round thee fling. 

Through joyful days or sad ones, 
The sweetest sounds to thee 

His words of fond affection, 
In soulfelt sympathy. 

But dearest, through the moments, 
That come all flower-crowned, 

Sometimes let thoughts of mother, 
On folded leaves be found. 



To Josie. 65 

And when for thee life's shadows 

O'erwhelm thy spirit, dear, 
Somewhere, they're sure to meet thee, 

In sombre garb, and drear; 

Then, darling, call for mother, 

She'll bid each duty bide, 
Take all thy heavy burdens, 

Or share them at thy side. 



66 Primroses. 



A TRIBUTE. 



" Earth would never touch her worst 
Were one in fifty such as he." 

5 'TWAS night ! I wondered would I breast 

1 The wintry wave ; 

Suppose a storm arose, what hand 
Was there to save. 

Spake low a voice within — " Always," 

Is One, He hears 
His children's cry ; "the widow's God" 

Calm thou my fears. 

Ah, yes ; I know. But I am weak ; 
I crave a hand 
To outward reach : a human stay 
Of earthly strand. 

Do angels listen ? Bear away 
Our every thought ? 
And hovering near are angels too, 
With blessings fraught? 

I can not tell ; but out beoynd 

The sunset far, 
With fervent, loving clasp, and clear, 

Across the bar, 



AlTribute. 67 

There reached an earthly hand. The years 

Fold over then, 
But still a hand as kind, as firm , 

As true as when 

The dark veil fell around that hand ; 

A brother's clasp 
Has bade me know how strong and pure 

Is friendship's grasp. 

I think God works on human lives 

Through human means, 
And what men call but kindly acts, ' 

God's method screens. 



68 Primroses. 



IN THE HEART'S TEMPLE. 

I BOW me not at fashion's smile, 
No homage give to gold, 
But at the bar of intellect 

My casket open hold. 
I bend the head, to wisdom heed, 

Wait breathlessly and still, 
Lest by mischance a gem escape, 
Ere I my measure fill. 

And where some gentle, earnest soul 

Puts self beneath its feet 
To help to bear another's cross, 

And yield an influence sweet. 
I love to bring my little mite, 

The robe of light to see, 
And let perchance its outward reach 

Rest evenwhile on me. 

Yet do not think I beauty scorn ; 

Ah ! no, she holds her own, 
And everywhere my life lines lie, 

I like her emblems strown. 
She bathes my heart in sunny rays, 

And keeps its temple fair, 
And welcomes every genial thought 

That seeks an entrance there. 



Baby Boy. 69 



BABY BOY. 



MRS. A. E. B. 



ANGELS bright were floating softly, 
Through the fleecy clouds above, 
And they often bent to listen 

For some whispered prayer of love. 
Upward rising on a zephyr, 

Breathed a gentle mother's prayer : 
' ' One more lamb within my bosom, 

One more birdling for my care. 
Years ago to me was granted 

One sweet lamb, my arms to hold. 
But our Shepherd saw and loved it, 

So he called it to his fold. 
Though two others play about me, 

Bringing gladness like the sun, 
Still dear Father, bend and listen ; 

One more like the absent one. 

Those bright angels upward bearing 
That fond prayer the azure trod, 

Till they neared the height celestial 
And they reached the home of God. 



70 Primroses. 

Down before the footstool bending 
With the host awaiting there 

In its words, all pure and holy, 

Low they laid that mother's prayer. 

Summer flowers blossomed sweetly, 

And the song-birds warbled free ; 
Then thy prayer of love was answered 

One more lamb was sent to thee. 
But my friend, remember ever 

It is but a treasure lent ; 
And should God, the Shepherd, claim it, 

Thou must give a calm consent. 
But I trust thy cup is measured 

Now to hold its fill of joy, 
And that bright will be the future, 

Both for thee, and Baby Boy. 



Owls Kill Humming- Birds. 71 



OWLS KILL HUMMING-BIRDS. 

CRITICS when the birds are winging 
Through the air — their carols singing, 
Peace and joy, to mortals bringing, 
Do not criticize. 

While you may be very clever 
Seeking for some blemish ever, 
You o'erlook the sweet endeavor 
And the beauty dies. 

O'er the world some hearts are aching, 
Some in silence slowly breaking 
Just because of people making 

Use of words unkind. 

While we con the simple reading 
Let us scan the magic leading 
For the timid songsters pleading 

" Owls kill humming-birds." 



72 Primroses, 



DON'T LOOK AT THE COBWEBS. 

LYING one day on my wearisome couch, 
Quite free for the time from pain: 
My eyes roved around in search of food 
To nourish my hungry brain. 

Cobwebs I saw from the ceiling hang 

In their tissues soft and thin, 
Yet strong enough to easily hold 

The dust they gathered in. 

It was not a sight to please the eye 
When the hands were helpless laid, 

Nor yet a sight for the throbbing brain, 
That could give the hands no aid. 

So I turned my eyes to another place, 

Where rested a picture fair, 
Where the artist's touch gave flowers and trees 

And the bloom of summer there. 

And finding food for the waiting brain 

In the bright beams floating by, 
I quite forgot there were cobwebs dark^ 

Still hanging my pictures nigh. 



Don't Look at the Cobwebs. 73 

And then I thought, how this life hangs full 

Of cobwebs close to the wall : 
There are sights and sounds disturbing us 

We would gladly escape them all. 

But as our feet must oft tread the path 

That the most discomfort brings, 
It is best to turn from cobwebs dark, 

And look for the brighter things. 



74 Primroses. 



T 



ONLY A WORD. 

WAS only a word — but O so fond 
It fell on a waiting ear, 
That ever I knew 
Though time may go 
That sound it will gladly hear. 



It wafted across the waters past, 

Turned back the out-going tide, 

It touched a bell 

In memory's cell 
Flung open her portals wide. 

And the years long past seemed few and near 
By memory's enchanted light, 

As forms of old 

Now still and cold, 
Come back to my longing sight. 

I trod the paths where the childish feet 
Life's rounds would merrily go; 

The merest dream, 

A joy would seem 
As gems in their luster glow. 



Only A Word. 75 

And words I heard of the sweetest praise, 
That comes to a childish heart, 

Till tears that rise 

To a woman's eyes 
From my drooping lids would start. 

That little word I have laid away, 
To me 'tis a beautiful spell 
For when alone, 
The star-light gone 
It has a story to tell. 



j6 Primroses. 



MORE LIGHT. 

ORE light! O Father, lend me more, 
' Tis not so dark I can not see, 
But oft the shadows gather o'er 
When far-off seems the better shore 
While gloomy doubt will nearer be. 



M 



I falter on my toilsome way, 

And scarcely dare my feet to move, 
While veiled appears each kindly ray 
That used my trembling steps to stay, 

When walking toward the heights above. 

Faith's lamp oft fails me, burning low 

As if 'twould quench its flickering light 
And shadows then will longer grow 
And slower too my steps will go, 
I fear the shades of gathering night. 

O, Father! let an angel come 
My little lamp of faith to trim; 

Lest, 'mid the shadows as I roam 

I stray so far from Jesus' home 
I'll ne'er behold the face of Him. 



Battle Hymn. 77 



BATTLE HYMN. 

" And the chariots of God are the thousands that move as 
angels to bless mankind." 

ONWARD sisters! do not falter, 
Though the waves run mountain high: 
You shall cross the Red Sea over 
And your sandaled feet be dry. 

Fear not discord nor contention, 

They shalll flee as you pursue, 
And the sneers that follow after, 

Sink into oblivion too. 

Proudly, firmly, plant your standard 

Bid the world endorse each line, 
Woman's wit, and woman's wisdom 

With the laurel wreath entwine. 

Flash of sword, nor roar of cannon, 

Heraldeth our army's tread, 
Leave we neither dead nor dying 

To proclaim a victory red. 

Peaceful homes, and pleasant faces, 

Greet us wheresoe'r we go, 
Brighter days through our endeavor 

Over darkened lives shall glow. 



J 8 Primroses. 



Onward sisters ! never falter, 

Though the waves run mountain high, 
You shall cross this Red Sea over 

And your jeweled feet be dry. 

I could tell of forms now vanished, 

Lonely graves oh, far away, 
Holding buds of precious promise 

Early fallen by the way. 

I could tell of hours of weeping, 

Nightly watch ings all alone, 
I could point where one sat waiting 

Till the rays of daylight shone. 

And the picture never fadeth, 

Though the years on years go by; 

While I live and memory lingers, 
Leaves it not my childish eye. 

So goes out my heart amongst you 
And I pray that God's right hand, 

Lead you on to heights victorious, 
Drive intemperance from the land. 



Where Do The Pins Go? 79 



WHERE DO THE PINS GO? 

1 PLACE on my cushion a surplus of pins 
And say to myself, ' ' these will last. ' ' 
But not one can I find, according with mind 
Ere twenty-four hours are past. 

The cushion is nice; embroidered in white, 

All daintily ruffled around, 
No better a bin, for a good little pin 

In city or town could be found. 

And yet in a hurry, if needing a pin, 

Its up-stairs and down I must run, 
With jacket askew, my collaret too, 

In a chase of the kind there's no fun. 

Now where do they go ? There's no place above, 

In the measureless cushion of blue 
Where pins, crooked or straight, may find their estate 

And carve out a destiny new. 

Or do they go down and under the sea, 
Where mermaids their toilets prepare, 

Come happily in to fasten a fin 
And find opportunities there ? 



80 Primroses. 

Well this is a point that we're looking up yet, 
And the sharpest that carries a head, 

May puzzle his brain again and again, 
A light on this problem to shed. 



Fulfillment. 8 1 



FULFILLMENT. 

STAR-EYED and tender, a tiny flower, 
The blue veined forget-me-not 
I saw, as I passed a floral group, 
In a lovely garden spot. 

Softly folded the buds were waiting 

To open another day, 
For me they held tender promise, 

I heard them all sweetly say. 

The morning was gently breaking, 

My buds were opening there, 
The folded promise had kept its faith 

And its fragrance filled the air. 

1 'Ah, heedest thou dear, the lesson 

Written on a flower's heart? 
Be faithful to thy promise ever, 

And perfect the smallest part." 



82 Primroses, 



THE ANGEL'S VISIT. 

WHEN the summer sun was sinking, 
The flowers blooming free, 
The wild bird's note resounding 

From every leaf and tree, 
An angel bearing promise 

Down through the azure came, 
And pausing at the portal 
He softly called my name. 

I rose to do his bidding, 

He only whispered low 
That when had passed the autumn, 

And came the winter's snow 
He'd bring a precious flower, 

And place it on my breast, 
And if came care or sorrow 

'Twould lull them into rest. 

O, how I watched his coming, 

And waited at the door — 
I knew he'd not deceive me — 

Three times he'd been before. 
At length when evening's shadow 

O'er hill and valley fell, 
We heard the white wings rustle, 

And knew the import well. 



The Angel's Visit. 83 

Within his hand he held it — 

That flower so pure and bright, 
That all around seemed morning 

Though gathering near was night. 
I reached my hand to take it, 

Glad joy o'erspread my heart, 
When — was it true, or fancy ? 

A something made me start. 

Then back the blood went coursing, 

While stifling came the breath, 
Drew near a dreaded presence — 

We felt that it was death. 
He snatched my precious blossom 

From out the angel's hand, 
And in his cold arms bore it, 

Unto the hidden land. 

A light within is burning 

That gives a cheerful ray, 
And through its soft, pure radiance, 

I trace my darling's way. 
It passed where sin and sorrow, 

Sharp pains, and trials grow 
And entered where no suffering 

The inmates ever know. 

That City is Celestial — 

A world of untold bliss, 
Where scenes of joy awaiting 

Atone for grief in this. 



84 Primroses. 

And where the fairest flowers 
For life's brief hour made, 

Are cared for by God's angels, 
And never, never fade. 



Lend A Hand. 85 



LEND A HAND. 

11 Break not the bruised reed, 
Quench not the smoking flax." 

WHEN the feeble frame is bending 
' Neath a load too great to bear, 
While the footsteps linger weary, 
In the toilsome track of care: 
While the hands are listless lying 

Shunning e' en the slightest tasks, 
And the voice in feeble accents 
Help to bear a burden asks. 

Break no reed God's hand is bending 

Quench no fire nearly gone, 
But with hope the soul sustaining 

Lead the fainting spirit on. 
Point to heights above the trials, 

Bathe the worn and aching feet, 
Whisper words of love and kindness 

Comfort thou with influence sweet. 



86 Primroses. 



TRIOLET. 



IF I could be a sunbeam, dear 
How bright I'd circle you around, 
There should not be a pathway drear 
If I could be a sunbeam, dear 
Came there an ill to compass e'er, 

Before it should my smile be found 
If I could be a sunbeam, dear, 
How bright I'd circle you around. 



Anchored. 87 



ANCHORED. 



o 



VER the sea she sailed so grand, 
My ship that sailed for Fairyland. 



Her keel was silver, her prow was gold, 
She freighted full on deck, in hold, 

With gems that shone in morning light, 
And gleamed like stars at evening bright, 

But ah, she came not back again ; 
I waited long, but all in vain. 

I wept at first as weeks went by, 
The tears that never seem to dry. 

I could not bear the goading thought, 
My jewels all are gone for naught. 

At last the silent wings drew near, 
And angel voices I could hear : 

So low, so sweet, I knew not earth 
Had power to give such music birth. 

They held my spirit till its grief, 
From passion's spell had found relief. 



88 Primroses. 

And this is what they said to me : 
1 ' Your treasure is not lost at sea. 

Though no more comes she back to you, 
One day you'll cross the waters blue, 

To find your precious gems re-set, 
And gleaming brighter, fairer yet. 

And then alone I was once more, 
To wait upon the hither shore. 

With restless feet, the sand I pressed, 
As if to see which way was best. 

But all was dark : I could not see 
The paths that God had marked for me. 

He wills that we should trust in him, 
In sunshine bright, or shadows dim. 

And now again I gather up 

Bright sparkling gems to fill my cup. 

And when another ship I see, 
Be there a place or not for me, 

With treasure fair I'll freight again, 
And send it o'er the mystic main. 



Two Little Hands. 89 



TWO LITTLE HANDS. 

TWO little hands, all dimpled, pure and fair, 
As if the angels crushed the rosebuds there 
Two little hands that seem too small to clasp 
The lightest burden life holds in its grasp ; 
And yet these little hands must larger grow 
And all through life must woman's portion know. 
I wonder which, could it before them lie 
To choose the one, and pass the other by, 
These little hands will take ; will joy appear 
When they shall banish self for duties near ? 
For parents, kindred, those they truly love, 
Rise all the trials of the world above ? 
Bend down o'er suffering's lonely, dreary cot 
And comfort give to those who have it not ; 
The cup of water with kind words of cheer 
Bestow upon the thirsty stranger here ? 

Or will they find in weaving flowers bright 
To wear beneath the sunbeams golden light, 
To deck in raiment rich, and jewels fine, 
And hold life's chalice of enchanted wine ? 
To find in self their highest mission here, 
Nor strive to labor in a higher sphere. 
Ah no, it can not be ! our baby's hands 
Must glean in higher fields, in broader lands, 



90 Primroses. 

Though thorns may tear, and brambles bar the way. 
Must glean the grain, and throw the chaff away. 
Each higher thought, each action good or bright 
Shall shed around our darling greater light. 
And yet I would not ask that flowers few 
Her path of care to womanhood should strew ; 
I fain would see their beauty frequent spring, 
And all their fragrance o'er her pathway fling. 
And see her free, their sweetest blooms to twine 
With those Christ's spirit makes, on earth, divine. 



Have Faith. 91 



HAVE FAITH. * 

WHAT though the way looks long and cold, 
No rays of light o'erhead enfold : 
No loving hand thy steps to guide, 
No flower thy path to grow beside, 
Have faith ! 

O, listen thou, and hear that word, 
Which through the darkest hour is heard. 
And know that He who rules above 
Protects us all with perfect love. 
Have faith ! 

And if 'tis best the clouds will clear, 
The sunshine through the rift appear ; 
Sweet flowers bloom afresh for thee 
O, doubt it not, 'twill surely be. 
Have faith. 

I walked a weary way and long, 
Where scarce awoke a bright bird's song ; 
And flowers fair that opened sweet 
All withered were beneath my feet, 
Yet faith 



92 Primroses. 

I kept ; and though sometimes came doubt, 
With restless feet, to stamp it out, 
I trimmed again and gave more oil, 
My meed of yet more earnest toil, 
To faith. 

And now, through faith itself, I see 
The silver rift that breaks for me. 
I see the heights, their caps of blue ; 
I hear the bells in concord, too, 
While faith 

Shines brighter, like the northern star, 
And says ; ' ' The resting is not far, ' ' 
While nearer sounds that ringing bell, 
Repeating this : "All's well ! all's well ! " 
Have faith. 



Be True To Me. 93 



BE TRUE TO ME. 

BE true to me! Yes ever 'tis love's plea 
From out of all life's richly garnered store 
Take I this grain, I would not cast it o' er 
The land, nor freight with it a bark for sea, 
Though others pave the way with flowers for thee, 
Blend smiles with speech from golden chalice pour 
Like wine rare thought till thou canst quaff no more, 
I still will cry, dear heart be true to me! 
O poor were I, a beggar through the land 
Bending at every door for daily bread 
Gave I that human wish so fond, away; 
'Tis selfish ? yes I know, but through life's day 
Angels walk not; I have no wings to spread; 
My heaven is here — the lot wherein I stand. 



94 Primroses. 



MY BEAUTIFUL STAR. 

I SAT last eve and watched the distant sky, 
The sombre clouds came one by one, and stretched 
Themselves along until they seemed a sad 
Funereal pall. Then suddenly appeared 
A little rift within a cloud, and slow, 
And still, as if it feared to meet the gloom 
A tiny star came stealing out. So small, 
It seemed at first a speck of light, that e'en 
The feeblest breath of passing breeze might kill. 
But gradually it larger grew, more bright, 
And cast its cheery beams on all around. 
The winds came up, and swept unkind and rough 
Across my little star but still its light 
Ne'er changed. The clouds grew darker, heavier yet, 
I wondered will they fright it back beyond 
My gaze, or will it wait the gathering storm 
To pass, then shine for me with fairer light ? 
I watched, and soon a gleam, a tint so faint, 
But yet so true, like love's first kiss, upon 
The dear one's lips, just touched the cloud's dark edge, 
I knew my star was safe. The dark-robed host 
At last were gone! And there before my gaze 
As fixed as when my eyes first greeted it 
With light more strong, with smile more sweet for clouds 



My Beautiful Star. 95 

O'ercast, my star appeared to gladden me. 
Around were other stars, while gathering still 
They came, a train, to gild the court of Heaven! 
But she, my own, my pride stood queen of all ! 
The one to me most beautiful! E'en so 
Above my life, I watch a little star! 
At first but faintest ray, but O so pure 
I could but love and long to make it mine. 
Again the winds blew cold and rough, the clouds 
Had circled all around, but rifting through 
The gloom, and clothed with sweetest, rarest, smiles 
A little star shone forth to gladden me. 
There may arise, and o'er me shine such lights 
As grace the darkest pathways here: among 
Them all, but one I'll see: but one for me 
On earth will evermore be beautiful! 



96 Primroses. 



THE TRAMP TRANSFORMED. 

I STRAYED one time where the forests leaves 
Were fallen along the way, 
Where close by the side of a murmuring stream, 

A village awoke one day. 
While tarrying there I beheld a tramp 

To the barn he came and went, 
With shabby clothes, and a straw hat torn, 
He seemed to be content. 

His neck-band harbored no collar white, 

His hands were of kid gloves bare 
While the sun came down with patent brush 

To paint the brown tints there. 
The young scamp laughed with a merry laugh 

"What do I care for it, 
Think you store clothes, and stove-pipe hat 

For work of farm -life fit ? 

' ' And what would I do with a collar white 

Down at the pond to-day, 
Oh, where would have been my broadcloth coat, 

Like bread on the waters, hey ? 
I've another hat," he snatched from a peg 

A bigger and broader brim, 
' ' I wear sometimes wear when der sun is hot 

What does yer tink mit him ? " 



The Tramp Transformed. 97 

But ah! to the table came one day, 

One dressed in courtly grace 
In fine spun coat, and golden chain, 

Sat in that young tramp's place, 
A collar now to his bosom's front 

Lent beauty and cleanly hue, 
The wristbands fastened with fine- cut gems 

Gave grace to brown hands too. 

The face that looked from the pleasant frame, 

The voice in its gentle tone, 
The laugh that rang as we made our bow — 

'Twas the young tramp's very own. 
Though honors now with the clothes he wore 

To us it mattered small: 
The genial heart of this jolly tramp 

Dwelt still in Professor 



98 Primroses. 



A LESSON FROM A CLOTHES-LINE. 

1SAW some clothing yester-noon 
Hanging the line upon, 
And as I looked the thought occured: 

1 ' That wash is poorly done. ' ' 
It looked so gray beneath the clouds 

That gathered thick and low, 
They seemed to o'er each garment there 
Their gloomy shadows throw. 

E'en as I gazed a puff of wind 

The wheel sent whirling round, 
And soon within a sunny sheen 

A tranquil resting found. 
As if spread o'er by falling snow 

Before my carping sight, 
The clothes so late of dusky hue 

Appeared of purest white. 

I stood and pondered thus: If we 

Contrast the clouds and sun, 
We find its just the same with life, 

There's much injustice done. 
We will not wait the wheel to turn 

And bring out color true, 
But pass our judgment hastily 

On that by chance we view. 



Shadow Watching. 99 



SHADOW WATCHING. 

I SAW one sitting, thinking, thinking, 
'Neath the moonbeam's misty light 
And I saw the shadows passing, 

Passing, all before her sight. 
One there came from childhood's bower 

Dripping o'er with many tears 
And her heart was quicker beating, 
As she thought of bygone years. 

As she mused there sad and lonely 

Asking in her heart release 
From the sorrows that enthralled her, 

Came unto her spirit peace. 
And I saw the sunbeams wreathing 

'Round the shadow of the heart 
While the cloud of sorrow bursting, 

Scattered tear-drops far apart. 

And she trod the path of pleasure 

Where the roses sweetly bloom, 
While around her sunshine floated 

Bearing on its sweet perfume. 
But the sky again was darkened, 

And the moon a veil hung o'er: 
As another deeper shadow 

Than the by-gone passed before. 



ioo Primroses. 

I could hear her quick heart-beatings 

Through the heavy midnight gloom 
I could see her spirit-struggles 

As she paced her lonely room. 
And I saw her bow in anguish, 

Listened to the tear-drops fall, 
Then I saw God's waiting angel, 

With his white-wing dry them all. 

And he whispered words so gentle, 

Such as angels only can, 
How a shadow often brings us 

Our dear father's wisest plan. 
How the rod we deem a torture, 

Wielded is with kindest love, 
Often raised in benediction 

By the father's hand above. 

Then the angel floated upward 

Through the azure space away, 
Free to gild another shadow 

With God's smiling sunny ray. 
And again the earth looked brighter 

And the flowers she could see, 
So she rose and walked on trusting, 

On toward the land To Be. 

Entered once that mystic region 

All along it duties grew, 
There she staid to glean them gladly, 

Wove them into pleasures true. 



Shadow Watching. 101 

Often o'er her lowly bending 

Hung the angry frowning cloud, 
But she knew that God upheld it 

And His smile it did enshroud. 

So she gleaned in light and shadow, 

Whereso'er her footsteps fell, 
Ever heard the voice within her 

" God would have his work done well." 
And she knew when years were ended 

And the paths of life were trod, 
That her task would be accepted, 

On the balance sheet of God. 



io2 Primroses. 



MINDFUL OF LITTLE THINGS. 

IT is the little things of life 
That we should bear in mind 
If we would have a garb of love, 
About us closely wind. 

Sometimes, a blossom from a plant, 

A spray of flowers rare, 
Has raised a storm-bowed spirit up 

And soothed away its care. 

A trifling gift I've known to please 

To cheer a dying child, 
For while the trembling fingers clasped 

The pale lips sweetly smiled. 

And but a hand passed o'er a brow 
When pain was holding sway, 

I know has stilled the throbbings all, 
And smoothed the prints away. 

A silent kiss was found to hold 
The wealth no king could buy; 

A pressing cheek contained a mine 
Of precious sympathy. 



Mindful of Little Things. 103 

And tears! all know, that for our grief 

Wherever they are shed, 
They bind with bands unbreakable 

The living and the dead. 

The larger things are bought with price 

From earthly coinage made; 
For little things the Heavenly mint 

Keeps count of what is paid. 



104 Primroses. 



TWO SHIPS. 

I SAW two ships on a wide, wide sea, 
Go sailing along in company. 

The one looked strongest to brave the tide 
Smaller the one by the other's side. 

Proudly they sailed, while mast and spar 
Shone in the sun like gold afar. 

The smaller looked safe by the larger' s lee 
To breast the waves of the wildest sea. 

But soon the larger ship veered away, 
Leaving the small one alone to stay. 

And other ships too as staunch and strong, 
Close in its wake went riding along. 

But the smaller there with her wings of white, 
Still slowly sailing, kept ever in sight. 

The shadows dance o'er her shining prow 
The wild winds sweep o' er her bulwarks now. 

The waters rise to her high head-light, 
And the land lies often out of sight. 



Two Ships. 105 

On, on, she sails o'er the waters wide 
O'ercoming the shadows winds and tide. 

And into the haven rides at last 
When all the dangerous shoals are past. 

I pray God help that larger ship strong 
And guide it through peril safely along. 

But I pray God's love be overthrown 
That little bark that sailed all alone. 



io6 Primroses. 



AT REST. 



" There is no flock however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there. 
There is no fireside howsoe'er defended, 

But has one vacant chair." 



SHE has passed from our earthly vision 
Has crossed o'er the mystic stream 
And we sit 'mid the shadows of sorrow 
And say ' ' it seems like a dream ! ' ' 

Like a dream since she came amongst us 
With her bright sunny smiles — a bride 

And asked of our love to bless her 
And a place our hearth-stone beside. 

O, then gladly we gave her a welcome, 

So fair was her spirit and bright 
Not a cloud but fled from her presence, 

Not a burden but quickly grew light: 

And how fondly our heart-strings entwined her 

The future-time coming so near, 
While impatient we waited for footsteps 

Not thinking two angels to hear. 



At Rest. 107 

Close folded in snowy white raiment 

We gather the lamb to our love 
While safe with the Heavenly Shepherd, 

The mother looks down from above. 



io8 Primroses, 



THE POET. 

IT is his! the glorious summer, 
Its flowers blooming fair 
And his the wild bird's warble 

That wakes the silent air. 
His too the cloudlet sailing, 

Through all the azure deep: 
And his the bright stars watching 
Where loved and absent sleep. 

And his the calm blue ocean, 

The rough waves angry foam 
The rugged mountain's fastness 

The soaring eagle's home: 
For him the rosy morning 

The twilight's later hour 
To charm his poet fancy 

Use all their magic power. 

All these to him have language 

In low and soothing tone 
To him are ever speaking 

The words to earth unknown. 
All these are God proclaiming, 

His greatness and his love 
All these the poet leading, 

To clearer heights above. 



The Poet. 109 

His life is wreathed with beauty, 

As fairest garden sweet, 
His path bears oft the impress, 

Of sinless angel's feet 
When wakes his soul in music 

His choicest songs are sung, 
'Tis when the chords transcendent 

By angel hands were strung. 



no Primroses. 



TISSUE TRANSCRIPT. 

JUST a bubble ! I took some soap, 
Passed it the water through, 
Then with a common pipe — for sport, 
Some bubbles simply blew, 

The sunshine quickly filtered down 

To write in language rare, 
These lines upon the tissue thin, 

And left its transcript there. 

'Twas this : Soap-suds the story tells 

Of vexing washing-day, 
When all who in its shadow live 

Are set the crooked way. 

But look at me with lenient eyes, 

Impart your genial life, 
And see with what a wealth of joy 

My homely form is rife. 

There walk within the world's wide ways 
What plain as soap-suds seems, 

Because no loving hand has sought 
To find the beauty-beams. 



Tissue Transcript. in 

No tender touch has tried the spring 

That opes the silent lid, 
And shown unto the world's wide gaze 

The hoard of treasure hid. 

Then judge us not from circumstance ; 

Our diamond-colored spheres, 
Are emblems of the beauty which 

In all God's work appears. 



ii2 Primroses. 



SONNET. 



GO forth, O Love, and give of thy great store ! 
Stand not as beggars stand, before the gate 
Where princes dwell ; but throw thy mantle o'er 

Thy royal robes ; and e'er the dawn, or late 
Beneath the dews, distribute of thy gold. 

Ask not for recompense ; wait not, but stray 
As one who feels assured, yet not too bold, 

That he goes through an olden well-known way ; 
Know thou, as all should know, who gave so great 

A gift, know too, one day he will require. 
Nor giv'st from out thy gentle, pure white hand 

As earthly masters ask, the worth for hire. 
Then go ; and shouldst thou meet upon thy quest 
A heart bowed down, oh pillow on thy breast ! 



Grant. 113 



GRANT. 

SOLEMN and sad on the outward wind 
My thoughts went from me to-day 
To that mighty crowd where wearied, wan, 

The pride of our nation lay. 
I saw the brave soldier dowered with fame 

And honor at home and abroad, 
Who saved us our flag, and ensured us our ' ' peace, ' ' 
Escaping both bullet and sword. 

And now from the foe whom none can evade, 

Who ventures past honors and fame, 
To homes of the people, the little lone cot, 

For chieftain and children the same; 
There comes no escape, though loved ones may weep, 

The nation in arms may arise. 
The word has been said ; our hero must go, 

No ransom will come from the skies. 

But memory waits on her evergreen bank, 

Entwines both the laurel and rose, 
The one for our love, the other for fame, 

Wreaths over his monument throws. 
While down through the years as history writes, 

Her annals in grandeur are bound, 
There'll not be a name more honored of men, 

Than " Grant," where her record is found. 



ii4 Primroses. 



WITCH HAZEL. 

IT was a pretty thought, sweetly exprest, 
For you that other morn, to me, to say — 
While walking through Life's autumn fading day 
" Like the Witch Hazel; you are surely blest," 
Although by winds of autumn sorely prest, 

' Witch Hazel ' holds her own, to cheer the way: 
Resists each effort on the earth to lay, 
While bearing fruit and blossom on her breast. 



How sweet to think, where nearing winter's snow, 
The heart can still keep warm; that summer's bloom 

May slowly fade. Though autumn winds are cold 
Within, we can if willing so, keep room 

For Love to come, fond arms around us fold; 

So when the white flakes fall we hardly know. 



A?i Invocation. 115 



AN INVOCATION. 

BLOW softly o'er his grave, ye winds, 
And softly song-birds sing, 
The sweetest fragrance in your cups, 
Ye flower-fairies bring. 

And only gentlest music with 

Your jets of silver spray, 
O charming, cooling fountains, through 

The months of summer play. 

And thou, O blessed sunshine, bring 

The alchemy of love ! 
And break the clouds that gather with 

Thy beauty from above. 

And, O ye stars, so faithful, with 

Your holy, truthful eyes, 
Keep watch when all are sleeping, from 

Your stronghold in the skies. 



n6 Primroses. 



BESSIE. 



ONE more little floweret blooming, 
One more blossom born of May, 
Two more little feet to wander 

Through this life's mysterious way. 
Two more little ands to struggle, 
Knowing not the good from ill : 
Two more eyes to see the shadows, 
For the tear-drops oft to fill. 

Teach us, Father, how to guide her. 

Keep the little hands from stain ; 
Veil the eyes from darkest shadows ; 

Bind the little feet from pain. 
Lead her all the journey gently 

In the sunshine of thy love, 
Fold her in thine arms when weary, 

Give her rest at last above. 



Rondeau. 117 



RONDEAU. 

O LIGHTLY touch my heart's frail strings, 
. 'Tis then the music wakes and rings, 
Until my being seems to thrill 
With thought too deep for words to fill. 
Wouldst hear such songs as running rill 
Gives out when winds through woods are still, 
Poet that soothes us while he sings, 
And peace to throbbing bosom brings. 
O, lightly touch. 

Harshly ? My Muse will spread its wings 
And soar afar from earthly things. 

Wouldst wake to answer at thy will 

Those silent cords to banish ill ; 
Then while to life the music springs, 
O, lightly touch. 



n8 Primroses. 



FATHER, GUARD MY BOY. 

KEEP him, Father, from all evil, 
Guard him lest he go astray, 
Fold him in thy loving-kindness 
All along his onward way. 

Help him bear the heavy burdens 
Lest they bend his spirit low, 

Gild the cloud above his pathway 
With Thy precious promise-bow. 

Lead him where his work awaits him, 
Strengthen thou his ready hand, 

Till amid his life's hard battle 
He may like a hero stand. 

God of the widow ! Father listen, 
While she bends the suppliant knee, 

And her heavy weight of sorrow, 
Brings by faith and trust to thee. 

Earthly friends too often fail us, 
But the " Rock of Ages," thou ; 

And on thee in doubt and darkness, 
Lean I in my weakness now. 



My Flower Boat 119 



MY FLOWER BOAT. 

I LAUNCH my Boat at Easter tide 
To try the perilous main; 
I can not tell, I do not know, 

If e'er the port to gain. 
If she shall skim the waves, a bird 

With pinions fleet and free; 
Or if her white sails drag the deck, 
A wreck come back to me. 

She bears bright hope above her prow, 

Her helm strong faith doth hold; 
Her sailors all are tried and true, 

To brave the wild winds, bold. 
So well equipped I think will pass 

The storm-king safely by, 
Until she anchors where o'erspreads 

A blue and cloudless sky. 

Her freight is light; no heavy ore 

Between decks stows away; 
I load her but with simple flowers, 

I gathered day by day. 
Perhaps some heart that lowly bows 

At sight of her will cheer; 
Before those silent messengers 

Some pain may disappear. 



1 20 Primroses. 

And so I trust my little boat. 

Let times be good, or ill, 
I think she'll reach the destined port 

Her mission to fulfill. 
But if she grate upon the rocks, 

Deck, spars, and sails be torn, 
Still floating on, her precious freight 

Will to some shore be borne. 

There fairer flowers than aught of mine, 

From tiny seed may spring; 
While opening neath a brighter sky 

Shall surer solace bring. 
Then, if I may not have the joy, 

I thought were mine to gain, 
My venture at this twilight hour 

Tempts not the tide in vain. 



Miriam. 121 

MIRIAM. 
" Standing where the brook and river meet." 

THERE the angel saw the maiden — 
Saw the river's outward flow, — 
Ships that were with trial laden 
O'er the waves go to and fro. 
Knew he all the sorrow waiting 

Those who brave the billowy tide ; 
Where the rocks lie deeply hidden, 
Where are wrecks the shore beside. 

Softly folding down her eyelids 

Ere life's sunshine died away — 
Bore he that sweet, gentle maiden 

Into realms of endless day. 
Loving hearts so sorely stricken 

See ye not that radiant star ? 
Christ was born on Christmas morning ! 

Heaven is not an island far. 

All along Life's onward journey 
O'er each path that star shall gleam 

Brightest, where the darkest shadows 
Closing in around shall seem. 



122 Primroses. 

Falling on the shores of Memory ~ 
Never there to glow in vain ! 

Though the years may mark their changes, 
One sweet face will true remain. 

DETROIT, DECEMBER 23, 1 894. 



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